


Not All Birthdays Are Worth Celebrating

by MoMoMomma



Series: Howard's Birthday Fics [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Artist Steve Rogers, Birthday, Drinking, Fluff and Angst, Implied Murder, Implied Past Child Abuse, Implied Spousal Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:31:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in TJOSP Universe- Howard doesn't celebrate his birthday and Steve's shocked to find this out. Not as shocked as he is when he finds out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not All Birthdays Are Worth Celebrating

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't decide where to put all these so I just put them in a whole new thing! I'm trying desperately to get over the massive writer's block I have for the WAGHS and BBB universes, so please bear with me. If you want to watch me complain about this awful block (and learn fun facts from the 'verses or yell at me to write) come visit me at momomomma2.tumblr.com and, as always, enjoy!

“Gooood morning, Marta!”

Steve hoisted himself atop the kitchen island, swinging his feet and watching as the older woman rearranged something within the oven before turning to face him. She gave him an exasperated look at his position but Steve cut off her chastisement, nodding towards the stove.

“Is that something for Howard’s birthday?”

Marta crossed her arms, face falling suddenly before she sighed.

“Ah, _mijo,_ no one told you, then. Howard doesn’t celebrate his birthday. He hasn’t since he was a boy.”

Steve frowned, Howard’s quick departure this morning making more sense. He’d thought the older man was simply going to pop into work to make sure everything was alright but apparently he was actually going to _work_ on his birthday.

“Why?!”

Marta shrugged, pulling the towel off her shoulder and snapping it at his thigh, Steve hopping down from the counter with a rueful grin.

“I don’t know. Edwin may, though, ask him. And keep your _culo_ off my counters.”

Steve thanked her with a laugh, high-tailing it from the room in search of Jarvis. He’d seen the man briefly this morning, shouted a greeting at him as he sped by on the way to his jog, but hadn’t seen him since. He caught one of the maids as he rounded the corner, the young woman pointing him towards the cigar room. Steve thanked her briefly before heading off, more curious with every step.

Why in the world didn’t Howard celebrate his birthday? It was a _birthday_ for godssakes! Everyone Steve knew loved their birthday, so why not a man who probably had the best parties and gifts every single year?

He swung to a stop in the doorway, brightening at the sight of Jarvis straightening some of the books before dusting the shelf they were on.

“Jarvis! Hey, I’m glad I found you!”

“Was there something I can help you with, Steven?”

Steve froze at Jarvis’ tone, as well as the use of his true name. Jarvis was never anything but kind and warm—if slightly sarcastic sometimes—towards Steve. But he sounded distracted, hurt, even a little cold right now, and had assumed a very proper stance, in lieu of the more relaxed one he usually had around Steve.

“I was….hoping to ask you a question.” Steve said slowly, sinking down on the couch and watching as Jarvis heaved a small sigh before setting his things down and sitting across from him.

“About Mister Stark’s birthday, I presume?”

“Uh, if that’s alright? I just…guess I don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to celebrate their birthday. At least in some small way.”

Jarvis twisted the hem of his coat in his hands, looking aside before finally meeting Steve’s eyes, a sadness in his gaze.

“If I tell you, and I should not be at all, you must promise to not inform Mister Stark. He has forbidden anyone from making mention of it.”

Steve nodded, swallowing hard and inching towards the edge of the couch, clasping his hands together. He was desperate to know, but at the same time, a dread hovered in the back of his mind. If it was bad enough that Howard had forbidden _everyone_ —including Jarvis, who was, as Steve could tell, one of his few friends—it might not be something he wanted to find out.

But curiosity was in the very nature of cats and artists. And maybe it would kill them both, but that day was not today.

He hoped.

Jarvis took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, his voice going distant, like remembering a faraway time.

“I was employed as a young man, not much older than Mister Stark himself. At that point, The Senior Stark, Howard’s father, had already started drinking, heavily and very often. The first year I was employed, Mister Stark did have a slightly enjoyable birthday, from what I could see. Festivities and fun and merry times. But the aftermath of that night was….frightening. Mister Stark Senior imbibed far too much alcohol. And when he drank, occasionally in the beginning and far more frequently towards the end of his life, he became….combative.”

“He hit Howard?” Steve whispered hoarsely, trying—and failing—to envision his strong lover as a victim.

But if Bucky had been one, anyone could be one.

Jarvis shook his head, relief blooming in Steve’s stomach, until he spoke once more.

“Not that night, no. In future days, yes, he did become very abusive of Howard. But that night, it was Mrs. Stark who bore the brunt of his drunken rage. Howard was…not in his correct state of mind. I beg you to remember the times, Steven. Drugs, pharmaceutical and otherwise, were practically expected at all parties. And Mister Stark had the money to purchase anything he could possibly want to have. So Howard was…quite intoxicated by the time Stark Senior lost his temper.”

“And so he didn’t intervene.” Steve swallowed at the implications, at the circumstances Jarvis was describing.

He knew Mrs. Stark died when Howard was young, and he knew Howard’s relationship with his father was a big N.O. when it came to conversation….

But he never would have guessed this.

“No. He likely would have, had he been able. As it was, Howard could barely stand without my help. We…ah,” Jarvis coughed to clear his throat, and Steve wanted nothing more than to wrap the older man in his arms, the pain in his voice creating a searing pain in his chest.

But he let him continue. He’d learned with Bucky that sometimes—and only sometimes—getting it out uninterrupted was the best way to heal.

“We just reached the bottom of the stairs, and could see them, Mister and Mrs. Stark, arguing at the top. I…could not react quick enough. Neither could Howard. And when Mrs. Stark landed at our feet…she had already gone from this world.”

Steve clasped a hand over his mouth, blinking back tears at the tale. Howard…had watched his mother die. On his birthday. The very woman who brought him into this world had died by his father’s hand….on the day he had first heard her voice, first touched her skin.

Jesus, no wonder Howard didn’t talk about his parents.

Or celebrate his birthday.

Jarvis stroked a hand over his cheeks, Steve hanging his head to breathe deeply, not even trying to imagine what pain Howard—and Jarvis—had lived with all these years.

But there was continuation to every story. And there was continuation in this one as well.

“There’s….there’s more, isn’t there?”

Jarvis let out a shaky breath, nodding and sliding his glasses back on to his face. He looked….wrecked, and Steve wanted nothing more than to cut the conversation short and let them both run away.

But curiosity. And maybe that cat didn’t die in a physical sense.

Maybe the emotional pain tore its heart apart until it no longer had the strength to go on.

“There is. It is…almost like a curse, in a way. Mister Stark’s birthday, that is. Maria first cheated on Howard’s birthday. The first time Tony was ever taken to the hospital was on Howard’s birthday. It is…simply not a good day for him.”

“I understand. T-Thank you.” Steve managed, standing and crossing to hug the man.

Jarvis hugged him back briefly, patting him on the back and standing as well.

“You are welcome. I’m going to…continue cleaning now. Anything to keep the mind from the date.”

Steve nodded and, after standing around for a moment, left the room, heading back towards his own. He was planning to do something for Howard’s birthday, plans that had been demolished by the tale. Steve paused at the top of the stairs when his phone rang, fishing it from his pocket and smiling softly at the sight of Howard on the ID.

“Hello?”

“Hey, darling boy. Just wanted to call, see if you had plans today.”

Steve was about to make a crack remark, asking Howard if he wanted to go to dinner or something, but the tone in his lover’s voice gave him pause. Howard wasn’t…looking for a yes. He sounded like he was hoping for Steve to tell him he had no plans, just boring everyday things.

And it occurred to Steve that Howard naturally would be afraid he would go out. All the angst that surrounded his birthday, he was probably terrified Steve would fall victim next.

Howard Stark was not a believer in other-worldly things. But he was practical. And patterns do not tend to fail.

“No, actually. I was just going to paint some, maybe take a nap on the couch. Be lazy today.”

“Oh, good. That’s…that’s actually really good.”

Steve smiled softly, leaning against the bannister and thinking about how best to talk to Howard. He sounded on edge, but that was about normal. He needed to say just the right thing.

“I love you.”

“I…I love you too, darling.” Howard sounded surprised, and Steve winced at the thought that Howard had become so scared of his birthday he assumed the worst in everything. “I’ll be home later, and see you then?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect.” Steve ended the call shortly after, tucking his phone in his pocket and heading towards his art room.

If Howard wanted a dull birthday, then it was Steve’s job to give him that.

But it didn’t mean he couldn’t paint a picture for the man. Not as a present…but as a “inspiration struck and gave me this” sort of thing. He’d done it before. It wouldn’t raise suspicion.

Maybe Howard’s birthday this year could be…something to breathe easy about.

For once in his life.


End file.
